Hide and Seek
by phantomphan2000
Summary: "The seeker pushed on, cutting through the woods in search of what she had lost." Emma's got a bone to pick with Rumpelstiltskin. That is, if she can find him. Sequel to Silver and Gold


_**Disclaimer: OUAT ain't mine.**_

_"What's your price?"_

_"Forgiveness."_

_"How about tolerance?"_

_"Well, that's a start."_

(Emma and Mr. Gold, 1x09)

* * *

**The Seeker: Tolerance**

Emma Swan carefully tugged an arrow from the quiver strapped to her back and fitted it to the longbow. Sucking in a quick breath, she drew back the bowstring determinedly, aiming at a distant target. Once she believed she'd found it, Emma let the arrow fly. The pointed projectile sailed past its mark and lodged itself in the damp ground about fifteen feet away. A rush of air escaped her lungs, and she tried not to dwell on how disappointed she sounded.

_Some savior I am._

Not that she really qualified as one anyway. The entire population of Storybrooke had yet to discover how she'd broken the curse laid upon them by the mayor—also known as Regina Mills (or more suitably referred to as the Evil Queen)—twenty-eight years ago. _Emma_ still didn't know how it was possible. The only person who knew the answer had vanished moments after the curse had been lifted, knowingly burdening her with a great deal of responsibility. These people looked to her—hope, excitement, and blind faith all distinguishable in their features—because she was supposed to be the savior. Because she should know what to do. Because her parents had shoved her in a wardrobe to give her a chance at a better life in a corrupt world, and maybe she could guide them on how to live one here. But Emma had only ever been the sheriff of a small town of cursed fairytale characters, not a princess from the Enchanted Forest. How could she ever lead them? Besides, Snow White and Prince Charming had already filled those shoes.

Shouldering her mother's bow, Emma retrieved the arrow and placed it back in the quiver, her father's sword swinging at her hip. She didn't have the patience for target practice when her mind refused to turn off. Too many thoughts demanded her attention for her to shoot straight. The sheriff turned back to the dirt path, instinctively heading in the opposite direction of Storybrooke.

Walking this route had become routine since Emma found she did not have the strength to forgive her parents. Their abandonment had warped her life, turned her into a weak and lost orphan. They may have sent her away for selfless reasons, but she hadn't been able to see it that way. Maybe she never would. Every time she looked at them, all she could see was the happy, cursed life she never got the chance to have, blissfully unaware of their true identities, the curse, her destiny. She thought only of how things would have been different—_better—_because they would have been with her. Together.

The more it occupied her thoughts, the more she suspected it was merely a figment of her imagination.

What a waste of time.

Emma stopped at the tree. August had lead her to it the day after the curse broke, upon her insistence. She'd needed to see it for herself. To believe it. The giant hole in the trunk still looked fresh, as if August had stumbled out of it yesterday with her cradled in his arms. Placing a hand on it now, she could feel a faint trace of magic pulsing deep in its roots, the same magic a cowardly pawnbroker had brought to the town a week ago. She wondered if she could have felt it before Storybrooke's citizens had regained their memories. Would the magic have been detectable then?

Maybe. Maybe not. Did it even matter?

She let her hand fall to her side, ball into a fist as she resumed her walk along the path. A petty pawnbroker was all he was, all he had ever been, ever would be. Nothing else. He'd given her the dagger, commanded that she take his life, break the curse, be the hero—her _favor_ to him. Sometimes Emma wondered if she roamed the woods often enough, she'd find him, beat and drag him back to town so he could explain everything. He was trapped in Storybrooke like the rest of the fairy tale characters, unwilling to cross the town line. Of course he wouldn't want to lose his memory, his powers. Magic. There were more important things to gain than his freedom. With Regina locked up and powerless, he remained the only one to elude her. The woods seemed the most logical place to search; there were just too many places for him to hide. The hunt for Gold would keep her occupied and away from the apartment, where her parents continuously suffocated her. She figured it wasn't intentional, but the hand they had dealt her held no forgiveness. Her cards were useless. She had nothing left to play, nothing left to explain how scarred she truly was.

Perhaps she should fold.

* * *

_Light._

She gathered all her strength, all her pain and anger and hate, commanding the crumpled piece of paper on the floor to burst into flames. A small wisp of smoke curled into the air, smoothing a satisfied smirk across her pale face. Magic was much different in Storybrooke than it had been in the Enchanted Forest, but that hadn't stopped Regina from using it. The small stream of smoke immediately dissipated, and she frowned deeply when no more followed, pushing herself to her feet in frustration. What was she _missing_? She paced back and forth in the tiny cell, brainstorming, arms akimbo. She'd had trouble with magic before, but not like this. She _knew_ how to set it alight. Her connection to magic had become disjointed somehow, but why?

"Finding it difficult to hop back into the saddle, are we?" a dark voice suddenly taunted from across the room.

Regina's head snapped up, eyes locking on a familiar figure, his eyes glinting with glee. Something deep in the pit of her stomach churned in disgust, white hot anger burning her from the inside. She willed his suit to catch fire. "What's it to you, Gold?"

Calmly, coolly, he sauntered over to stand in front of the cell he had once occupied, cane tapping quietly against the floor. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. How things had changed. "I assume you were dissatisfied with our previous arrangement"—the scowl on her face only confirmed his suspicion—"but fear not." He waved a finger as if he had a solution to all of her problems. "I have something else I wish to offer you."

Regina folded her arms, eyeing him distrustfully. He'd already fooled her into letting Emma back into Storybrooke and handing her the sheriff position in exchange for a replica of the Dark One's knife. She wasn't exactly keen on making fruitless deals with him anymore. "And what could you _possibly_ have that I want?"

"Freedom." A small puff of purple smoke appeared in the palm of his weathered hand, curling away to reveal one of her skeleton keys.

"Why?" she couldn't help but ask. Didn't he want her locked up like the rest of the town?

The pawnbroker smiled. "As amusing as it is to see you behind bars, Regina, I find you can still be of some use to me." Meeting her blank stare, he sighed and continued: "Since the day Emma Swan arrived in this town, we've had the same problem—getting rid of her. Now that she's broken the curse, things have changed. She's been reunited with her parents. Your enemies. You have no one left but your son. She won't leave Henry behind, but she can cross the town line and retain her memories, as can the boy. She can take him from you."

The mayor stepped forward and clutched the iron bars of her cell in fury, ignoring their icy chill. "I won't let her do that. Henry is _my _son."

"Do you honestly believe she'll take that into consideration once her mind's made up?"

Regina already knew the answer: no. Of course Emma wouldn't care. She had the freedom to leave and return as she pleased, but Henry had rooted her to the town. As long as he was here, she would be too. Her grip loosened on the bars. "What would you have me do?"

"_Act_," he replied firmly. "Convince her you've changed, that you regret your casting of the curse. That all you want is for Henry to be happy. She will want you in his life if you succeed. She will stay."

The mayor frowned. She could put on a show when it was necessary, but she wasn't sure how long she could lie to her son. And she didn't want Emma in his life. Not permanently, anyway. "And what do you get out of this mess?" She caught a spark of something in his eyes and laughed. Laughed and laughed and laughed until he finally began to walk away from her, key in hand. "Wait, Gold! What about my freedom?"

He stopped for a moment, running a thumb over the skeleton key in his palm. "I never said you'd be convincing her from _outside _your cell, Your Majesty."

And then he's gone.

For a moment, Regina could do nothing but let fresh waves of anger course through her. Then she remembered why she had started laughing at him in the first place: Did Gold really think he had a chance at winning Emma's heart? He was Rumpelstiltskin too, after all.

Feeling a surge of warmth at her feet, Regina glanced down to discover the crumpled paper had caught fire. Smiling triumphantly, she realized that she might not need Gold's help if she made enough progress with her magic. The smile slowly slipped from her features when the heat started to travel up her right leg.

That's when she noticed her pants were on fire.

* * *

After a few unsuccessful hours of roaming the trails for any sign of the pawnbroker, Emma decided to retire for the day. She could pick up the trail in the morning and continue her search then. All she wanted now was to grab some food at Granny's and sleep. Drawing her father's sword from its sheath, Emma raised it with the blade pointing downward and planted the weapon in the ground, marking the path. Then she turned and headed back to town.

When she returned the next morning, the sword was still there, but something else had materialized next to it overnight. As she moved closer, she realized it was a smaller weapon. She kneeled to retrieve it, brushing the dirt from the sharp blade. Emma dropped it instantly and took several steps back. How could she not have recognized it?

Emma yanked the sword from the ground and tried not to look at the dagger as she picked it back up and stuffed it inside her jacket. She'd thought about leaving it, but that really wasn't an option.

But it confirmed he'd been there, that he was out in the woods, hiding from her, dodging her. This was his game: hide-and-seek. The woods were his backyard, where it would certainly be hard for her to find him. He would only be found if he wanted to be, _when _he wanted to be. And so their dance would continue, everlasting and annoying as hell.

The seeker pushed on, cutting through the woods in search of what she had lost.

* * *

**Happy New Year everyone! I hope this was a good start for the sequel of Silver and Gold, and I can honestly say I'm immensely looking forward to writing more. Updates should be a little more regular now. Feel free to leave a review and let me know what ya think!**


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